


The Skaven Don't Exsist

by Roachbugg



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Warhammer Fantasy
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Possibly Pre-Slash, Sceo Week, sceo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 01:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roachbugg/pseuds/Roachbugg
Summary: My Contribution to Sceo Week 2018 for the AU Day Enjoy my foray into madness. Blame Creative Assembly for Making Total War Warhammer 2 awesome and Games Workshop for making an awesome universe.. *Until they killed it!*If people want I might do a second part with Sceo Smut, left it open-ended Just in case ;P





	The Skaven Don't Exsist

The Empire of Man, Ruled over by Emperor Karl Franz and the Elector Counts. For the empire’s resident’s life is oft dangerous. With many villages guarded only by a small Militia. While the empires Warmachine possessed a massive state army. It was gargantuan and slow to rouse. So Men Like Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski who served as part of their villages Free Company Militia were always needed. Carrying out every duty from policing to serving as a fire brigade. Their village, Beacon was located along the River Reik a few days ride from castle Reikgaurd. The Village got its name from the massive signal fire atop a stone tower which in times of emergency could be lit to alert Knights of the Reiksguard of invading enemies. Like everywhere in the empire enemies were lurking in every shadow. Greenskins, roamed the forests as did herds of Beastmen, Chaos cults and everyday bandits.  
  
Despite these threats, however, the village was mostly a quiet place. Attackers hesitant to assail it in fear of drawing the full wrath of some of the Empire’s most elite knights should the signal fire be lit. To say nothing of the Militia who were well known for being skilled with both their brace of pistols and their rapier. Nothing exciting tended to ever happen in Beacon until it did….  
  
\---  
  
The village was quiet as it normally was this late at night. Scott had drawn the short straw stuck with the late patrol. A dull job, he was currently sharing with Stiles. Which basically consisted of them walking around the palisade that surrounded the village until dawn. Darkness hung heavily over the forest the only sound being the sound of Scott’s boots slogging through the mud and the call of the occasional owl. Scott casually scanned the treeline his lantern barely providing enough light to see by. The Moon was obscured by thick clouds which had been dumping rain on the village for the past three days. A sudden movement caught Scott’s eyes and his hand instinctively went to his pistol. He froze holding his lantern up and listening closely. He could have sworn he saw something move. A snap of a twig to his left startled him and he drew his pistol swinging toward the sound his gun leveled.  
  
Then he spotted it a pair of glowing red eyes rushed toward him a large bipedal rat-like creature leaped from the shadows a blade clenched in each of his paws. The loud report of his pistol echoed through the night, fire and smoke spouting from the barrel obscuring his vision. A pained howl confirmed he had indeed hit the target. The creature plowed into him knocking him off his feet sending him sprawling into the mud before he could react the creature scurried off into the forest at incredible speed. He had just managed to get to his feet when Stiles came bounding around the bend in Palisade a pistol in each hand his lantern hanging from his belt.       
  
“Scott! You alright!” Stiles jogged over to him his eyes scanning for the threat as frantically looked for his assailant.  
  
“Something attacked me!” Scott finally managed having caught his breath the thing had knocked his breath out of him with its sudden tackle.  
  
“What was it?”  
  
“I dunno looked like a giant rat person!” Stiles gave him a flat look holstering on of his pistol and grabbing Scott’s bicep drawing his attention to his best friend.  
  
“It was probably just a rabid ungor or something Scott, you hurt?” Scott shook his head, scared shitless and covered in mud yes. Hurt, no. Stiles squeezed his arm in a calming gesture. Scott took a deep breath whatever it was had been fast and sure hadn’t looked like an ungor. His heart was still pounding, but he was calming down.  
  
“It sure as hell didn’t look like an Ungor, by Sigmar it thought I was dead for sure it was fast.” Stiles nodded stooping to hand Scott his dropped lantern, helpfully relighting it for him.  
  
“Well sounds like you scared it off still better to be safe than not right?” Stiles pulled his horn from his belt giving two sharp blasts to alert the rest of the militia. “We’ll get my dad and the rest of the militia and make sure there aren’t more of them around. Maybe we’ll find whatever it was and we can teach it not to mess with us right.” Stiles shoved him a bit Scott scoffing at him and shoving back. So much for a boring night watch.  
  
\---  
  
At dawn they searched for the creature that attacked Scott, to no avail rain had struck again just before dawn washing away any possible tracks. The only sign of Scott’s attack had been the blood on his tunic from where the wounded creature had tackled him. The worst part was the teasing, as soon as he’d described what he’d seen Jackson had laughed saying he’d finally lost his mind. What he described sounded a lot like a Skaven and it was common knowledge the Skaven didn’t exist. The only people who seemed to believe him were Stiles, the sheriff, and his mother.  
  
It became sort of a town joke after about a week. Something they’d laugh about over a pint and that should have been the end of it. One night a priest of Sigmar had been passing through and overheard the story, which wasn’t in of itself odd. What was odd was the dark look he’d given Scott as he retold the story.  Like he’d just uttered some vile blasphemy or something. Secretly though Stiles and Scott had both been working to catch the creature. They were both convinced it was still around. For whatever reason, the red-eyed shadow was prowling around either looking for revenge on Scott for having shot it or probing the village for weakness.  
  
However it was an elusive creature, they never seemed to catch more than a glimpse of it. Their attempts to capture it had also proven fruitless. To the point where they were both convinced they were going stark raving mad. Which they may well have been, if from nothing else but sheer boredom. One morning Scott awoke to a commotion in the town center squeezing through the crowd to find a witch hunter conversing with the Sheriff.  
  
Witch Hunters where bad news, usually hunting Chaos worshippers and Rebels. Their methods could be incredibly extreme with some accounts of them burning an entire village to ensure not one heretic escaped. It was the last thing one wanted to see, the Sheriff beckoned to Scott, who cautiously approached his hand resting casually on the hilt of his blade.  
  
“Ah, so this is him?” The witch hunter asked. He didn’t look much older than Scott and despite his features being partially obscured by his wide-brimmed at it was apparent he was quite handsome. In a roguish sort of way, he had clever dangerous eyes and a dark air about his presence that made Scott feel incredibly judged. However, there was something about his expression that also put him slightly at ease it was an odd mix of emotions.  
  
“Yes, Scott is the one who was attacked by the creature though we still have no Idea what it actually was.” The Sheriff looked tense hi hand resting on the grip of his pistol defensively. Though the witch hunter seemed entirely unimpressed. Passing the Sheriff a small nod and gesturing to the empty confines of the tavern.  
  
  
“I am Theodore Raeken witch hunter of the Order of Sigmar.” He introduced himself with a polite tip of his hat. “We need to speak in private, I have questions.” Scott swallowed thickly patting the Sheriff reassuringly on the arm as he noticed the man’s expression go dark. He followed the witch hunter inside closing the door behind them catching the Sheriff's eye, he had no doubt if the witch hunter where to declare Scott a heretic and sentence him to be executed. The sheriff would burn him at the stake, Imperial law be damned though it would simply lead to the order of Sigmar burning down their entire village in retribution. Whether or not there were actually any Chaos cultists or Rebels amongst them or not.  
  
The witch hunter gestured to a table stepping behind the bar and helping himself to a mug of the finest Ale they had. Before sitting across from him. “Describe the creature that attacked you in as much detail as possible. Nothing that is said here must ever leave this room.” Scott swallowed thickly he really should have kept his mouth shut and waved the whole affair off as a random Ungor when he had a chance. “I’m not sure what I saw.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. It had been dark and everything had happened so quickly.      
  
“From what I’ve heard from the locals you seem to be rather certain.... The creature that attacked you was a Skaven.” He quirked a brow the rim of his mug hiding his expression.  
  
“The Skaven are just a myth,” Scott repeated the official stance of the empire dutifully.    
  
“That is the official stance of the empire yes, however.” He paused taking a swig of the ale before setting the mug down on the tabletop. “They are very much real, and a great threat to imperial security. Only the highest levels of the imperial military and select witch hunters know of their existence.” He paused assessing Scott carefully. Steepling his fingers before continuing. “Rarely do they leave their under-empire, however many have been drawn to Mordheim in the decades since Sigmar’s Comet struck the city. They seek wyrdstone or as they call it warpstone it powers their devious war machines and dark sciences. The one you encountered is likely a scout probing this village for weakness so that his Warband can raid it for supplies before making the rest of their journey. They likely have been unwilling to move due to the Greenskins high activity of late but now that, that has passed…..”  
  
“They have no reason to attack the settlement and move on,” Scott replied so the Skaven were real, evil giant rat people who used warpstone to create monsters and powerful weaponry.    
  
“Precisely, the Arch Lector advised I take a company burn your village and hunt down the skaven. I managed to convince him that a more subtle approach was preferable. After all your merely a peasant who saw something in the dark, something that made a fantastic story to tell around the Inn you have proof to spread anything more than a rumor.” He stood crossing to the other side of the table and placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I prefer not to execute loyal sons of Sigmar. Not to mention the tactical advantage you village provides to the Reiksguard.” Scott went tense anxiety building as the witch hunter spoke surely the Arch Lectors wouldn’t kill them all just for a simple story, would they?     
  
“So you and I will hunt these Skaven then purge their camp….” Suddenly Scott was hefted out of his seat his back slamming painfully against the wall. Knocking the breath out of him. He froze his whole body going rigid. He swallowed around a lump in his throat as the cold Steel of a pistol was pressed to the underside of his chin. His heart raced adrenaline coursing through his body. He could feel Theo’s lean muscles even through the thick leather of his coat. The heat radiating from his body, there was a coy dangerous smirk on his lips, a deadly glint in his eyes. A simple squeeze and Scott would be dead, one wrong word and on top of being completely terrified… His cock was rock hard in his trousers, straining against the laces. Part of him wanted to attempt to disarm the witch hunter and fuck him over the table for his insolence. But he quickly swallowed his Reiklander pride not wanting to resist his head.  
  
“Now that I’ve got your attention, you mention none of this to anyone, you will do as I say then I will leave. This conversation never happened, the creature you saw will fade from your memory in a few weeks and you will all go back to a life of ignorance are we clear?”      
  
“Crystal.” Scott managed despite the gun barrel practically holding his mouth shut.  
  
“Good man,” The witch hunter lowered his weapon stepping back and placing it back in the holster. “Meet me at the gates at nightfall.” With that, the Witch Hunter left leaving Scott, confused, horny and vastly annoyed.      

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my content Look me up on [Tumblr!](https://roachbuggfanfics.tumblr.com/) Also you can show your support through kudos and Comments! Also in a few [in other ways](https://roachbuggfanfics.tumblr.com/post/170587669119/greeting-friends-if-you-enjoy-my-content-and-want)!


End file.
